


The Adventure of the Mystery Hunt

by skuldchan



Category: Sherlock Holmes (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-23
Updated: 2010-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-15 05:51:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skuldchan/pseuds/skuldchan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holmes and Watson spend an afternoon solving puzzles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Adventure of the Mystery Hunt

**Author's Note:**

> Context is very important for this one. Basically, I am currently obsessed with Sherlock Holmes (I blame Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law's amazing chemistry on screen together), and one night, in a fit of the usual Skuld-madness and excitement over MIT Mystery Hunt (which I've done every year since 2002), I created a poll on my LJ which basically said, "Sherlock Holmes would sure love a good, old-fashioned MIT Mystery Hunt, wouldn't he?" I figured this was sound reasoning, given that what Holmes does is very much like puzzle-solving, and since he is given to long fits of black moods when there is no mental stimulation, I am sure he would jump upon the chance of MYSTERY HUNT PUZZLES. (I am absolutely certain that once Holmes is confronted with a conundrum whose answer he doesn't immediately figure out, he is incredibly engrossed and intrigued.)
> 
> Anyways, the conversation on my LJ eventually devolved the lovely Kiyala saying, "Also, the thought of him snogging Watson every time he solves a puzzle makes me giggle xD," and that basically the end of me, because I realized that I had to write it, because Mystery Hunt was just a few days away and I was obsessed and needing to write.

"Ha, ha!" Holmes leapt out of his chair with such violence that it fell over, clattering to the floor and startling Watson.

Watson's mustache twitched. "Solved it, have you?" he asked from his seat on the armchair, gazing at the detective from over the top of his own puzzle that he'd been stumped on for quite some time.

"Well, once I realized that there were words associated with the clues embedded in each answer, finding the rest of them was elementary," Holmes replied. He handed his piece of paper triumphantly to Watson, who took it and studied it with a frown. Holmes waited as Watson pored over his nigh unintelligible scratch. "If you'd like me to explain in more detail--"

"No, I think that's quite all right," said Watson, placing Holmes' now finished puzzle on the table in front of him. "Well done, I suppose," he said gruffly.

Holmes beamed and continued to stand in front of Watson expectantly. The doctor bent over his puzzle again and redoubled his efforts to unstick himself from the conundrum he had chosen. A few seconds of uncomfortable silence passed, and then Holmes cleared his throat.

Watson blinked. "There are more on the pile waiting for you," he said, nodding over to the stack on the floor of at least twenty still-untouched puzzles.

"My reward, Watson, please. Don't play games with me."

Watson's mustache twitched again—his desperate attempt to hide a smile. "We are playing a game, Holmes," he said. The smile managed to escape his best efforts to keep it at bay, so he put his puzzle down in his lap and leaned forward.

"Yes, and we're going to win," Holmes replied, bending over to put a hand around the back of Watson's neck, drawing him in for a kiss. Their lips met, a chaste contact, and Watson pulled back slightly. Deciding that was not enough of a prize for the effort he had just expended not only solving the puzzle, but also writing down his methods afterward for Watson's edification, Holmes straddled the doctor's legs and sat down. He took Watson's face in his hands, peppering his words with little kisses. "We're. Going. To. Win. For. Sure." Holmes finished the final word with a great kiss, one that Watson consented to by opening his mouth and letting Holmes' tongue in. They pressed into one another, drawing deep breaths as they wrapped their arms around each other tightly. It went on for quite some time, and Watson had almost forgotten about the puzzlehunt entirely when he felt Holmes' hand walk down the front of his waistcoat.

Watson grabbed Holmes by the wrist, and broke the kiss.

"I don't think you've solved enough puzzles to merit that, quite yet." He smiled and moved Holmes' wandering hand aside. He eased the now crinkled paper his puzzle was printed on out from between Holmes' legs, and slid it into the space between them.

"When I do get to—"

"When you've solved the rest," replied Watson from behind his piece of paper.

Holmes waited, but Watson ignored him and began mumbling to himself, staring intently at the puzzle.

Holmes peeked over the top of the paper at his companion. "Promise?"

"I promise," replied Watson curtly.

"I solve the rest of the puzzles and we—"

"Retire to the bedroom, yes."

"Retire to our bedroom," Holmes corrected. Watson didn't answer. Holmes peered downward, studying the paper that was in Watson's hand. "You may want to try rotating your Caesar shift with every letter, so that—"

"Thank you, Holmes!" Watson said firmly, glaring pointedly at the detective. "I think I can solve this one on my own."

"Right, then," Holmes said, rising and untangling himself from the doctor. "Suit yourself." He went over to the floor, and picked up the top sheet of paper on the pile. His expression lighted up as soon as he read it, and he settled back, leaning against the side of his still-toppled chair, completely engrossed in the new enigma that had just presented itself to him.

Almost a quarter of an hour had passed before Watson sighed and put down his puzzle, rubbing his eyes. Vignere shift, of course. He was going to have to draw up a table of letters. And he was feeling the beginning of a headache coming on. He rose from his chair and stretched, joints popping, deciding he'd better take a break. He began making his way to his—no, their—bedroom door. Watson paused at the threshold, looking back over his shoulder at Holmes, who hadn't budged and was still sitting on the floor next to his upturned chair.

Holmes squeezed his eyes shut, his fingers wiggling as he seemed to perform some complicated mathematical calculation in his mind. His eyes snapped open and he scribbled something down on the paper in front of him. "Be with you in a moment, Watson," he said simply, and went back to his work.


End file.
